Cinderella search
by JoJo1
Summary: Logan is travelling across Canada. Logan POV. Pre-movie


Title: Cinderella search  
Rating: PG-13, maybe R  
Archiving: WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Dolphin Haven. Anyone else, ask first please.  
Disclaimer: Oh yes, they're mine. *knock knock* Go away, you pesky lawyer!  
Feedback: You better or I might send Sabretooth after you...  
Setting: Pre-movie/beginning of movie  
Summary: Logan is travelling across Canada. Logan POV. Pre-movie  
---------------------------  
I'm getting flamin' sick and tired of this. Sick of it all. What's the point  
in goin' from one side to Canada and then back again, for what feels  
like all eternity? None I tell ya. Nothin' ever changes, the camper is  
always the same and those nights I rent a room to be able to have a  
nice shower, the room is the same as the last one. One dingy motel-room  
is the same as the other. But I have to travel like that. I can't afford  
to stay in one place where I sooner or later would get some uncomfortable  
questions. And questions I don't have answer to myself either.  
  
And that's the fuckin' sad story of the last damn 15 years. That's the only  
thing I'm really sure of. Nothin' else. What significance, if any, do the dogtags   
I'm wearing have? What's my name? I call myself Logan when I meet someone that gives   
a damn, which isn't often, but I have no idea if it's my name at all. Or who the  
sadistic freaks who invades my nightmares are. As if living the way I do day by day  
isn't depressing as it is, some perverse fuckers from my unknown past did  
something so awful to me that I can't even get some peace during sleep. I've lost  
count on the number of times I've broken down and cried like a big baby out of  
frustration over everything.  
  
All I want is some peace of mind and something worth living for. Is that too  
much to ask for? For me it seems so. Nothing ever seems to go my way, even  
my own body is betraying me. It just won't let me find peace in death even.  
I've been severely hurt so many times that a normal guy would have died a  
long time ago. Not me. Because I'm not normal. I'm some sort of freak that  
just heals from everything. What did I do to deserve this?`  
  
Nothing I can think of. What do you say, God? What did I ever do to you?  
He's not answering tonight either. Not that I was expecting it from him. Or  
anything from anyone really. Keeps me from being more disappointed. I've  
learnt that nothing is the best you can hope for.  
  
So what I'm really doing is trying to find distractions where I can find  
them - anything to keep my mind from my pathetic existance. Can't recall  
a time when I've been truly happy with anything so I've settled for  
the best I can hope for - ignoring the pain of being alone, unwanted,  
having no memory of who or what I am.  
  
Those distractions comes in threes. Fighting, which gives some money  
for the essentials too, is number one. It's the best way of releasing  
frustrations, anger and resentment I know of and it's a good workout  
at the same time. The only drawback is that it's too easy. My opponents  
are never good enough so the fight lasts for a measly one or two minutes  
at the most.  
  
Distraction two is alcohol. I don't get drunk easily so I have to go  
through a whole shitload of beers and a whiskey-bottle or two before  
the effect hits home but it's worth it. Makes it easier to just forget  
about everything else, ya know?  
  
Number three is women. But not as much anymore. Sure, I can get a new  
bedmate every night if I want to but that's all there is to it. I don't  
dare to be attached to anyone. The last one I thought cared for me  
hurt me too deeply in the end so now it's just one-night stands every  
now and then and not all that often either. It was almost every night  
before but that just made me feel cheap and used - like a male hooker but  
without the payment. Now, that happens only when I'm desperatly needing  
some company even if it's just temporary. Everyone needs to feel normal  
at times even if it's just an illusion.  
  
I guess we all live in our own private shells in our own ways. My shell  
is just more private than mosts. Anyway, I do my best to ignore my senses  
and to fool myself that out there there's someone else that cares.  
Someone to answer all my prayers. I have yet to find my own Cinderella.  
Maybe she will always be beyond my reach but I still hold the hope  
that one day, probably in the most unlikely place, I can end my  
Cinderella search. That's the only thing that keeps me going now.  
But the hope's fading fast.  
  
  
  
  
Then one day something odd happened. I was in Laughlin City, a place where  
the competition is even more laughable than anywhere else when I smelt  
something unusual. I thought I knew most of the people that occassionally  
went there for a drink or to watch the fights but this one was new.  
Maybe not surprising if it wasn't how she smelt like. Not like the  
other women usually frequenting that type of dive. No cheap perfumes  
and not there just looking for sex or drugs either. No, she smelt  
more like innocence and sadness. I got so distracted by it that the  
guy I was fighting actually managed to land quite a blow. Not that  
it mattered. I knocked him out an instance later and that was the  
last one for the night.  
  
I later saw the girl, sitting in the bar nursing a glass of water.  
She can't have been older than 16. 17 at the most. I caught a glimpse  
of her eyes and no one that young should have that look in their eyes.  
A look I know all too well since I see it everytime I look into a mirror.  
The look of desperation and despair. But she had her heart in the right  
place, despite that, which she showed when she alerted me that someone  
was trying to knife me. She didn't have to of course but it showed that  
she cares for people. Before she knows they're freaks at least. She looked  
rather shocked when I extended my claws pinning the guy to the wall.  
The bartender decided that I wasn't welcome anymore so I left, but not  
before I had made sure his rifle was useless.  
  
I had driven for some miles when I heard a sound from the trailer.  
And surprise, surprise. The girl had hidden herself there.  
I don't know what I was thinking when I first left her standing on  
the side of the road but I quickly came to my senses. I just can't let  
her freeze to death out there. I may be a freak but I do have my morals  
and honors.  
  
I'm not much of a talker so it was a bit awkward at first but she was  
determined to have a conversation. She did most of the talking to  
be sure but she was pleasant enough. And it eventually turned out that  
she's a freak too. Other things that makes her different from ordinary  
people than me but still different. That's a relief because I thought I  
was alone in that regard. In that regard as well, that is.  
  
I don't know if she's my Cinderella or not but I damn sure will do  
everything  
in my power to find out and even if she isn't, I sure will make sure she  
will get a better life than what I've had. No one deserves what I've had  
to suffer through and most certainly not a young girl with her whole life  
ahead of her.  
  
I'll protect her to my last breath. But I pray that maybe, just maybe,  
there might be some hope for a better life for both her and me. Maybe. 


End file.
